


Bandages and Bad Ideas

by Jean_Reyne



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chara (Undertale) Protection Squad, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Aid, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_Reyne/pseuds/Jean_Reyne
Summary: Chara cuts herself—accidentally, this time. Asriel, still haunted by memories of red-stained sheets and bright yellow flowers and long nights by her bedside, insists on helping.Oddly enough, she can’t quite bring herself to be annoyed.
Relationships: Chara & Asriel Dreemurr, Chara/Asriel Dreemurr
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Bandages and Bad Ideas

The shears slipped.

The handles were old and worn. Chara was never as careful with such things as she should’ve been, anyway—so said Asgore and his son. She didn’t hurt herself anymore, not after Asriel… dissuaded her… but she wasn’t particularly safety-conscious, either. Cuts and bruises were nothing to her.

Asriel, though—well, Asriel didn’t feel the same way.

“It’s nothing,” Chara mumbled for what must have been the fourth or fifth time.

Asriel narrowed his eyes at her. “No, it’s not,” he said resolutely. He paused, scrunched his nose up. “Not nothing, I mean,” he added quickly. “Y-you know what I mean!”

It still amazed her, sometimes, how expressive he was.

“Asriel,” she sighed, following the twitching of his floppy ears at the sound of his own name. “It’s only a little cut.” The thin red line stood out against the pale white of her wrist, though, and she could feel his worried eyes on it. “It’s _nothing,_ really.”

He glared at her and said nothing, green eyes boring into her until at last she relented.

“Fine,” she said. Sitting on the edge of a raised garden bed, she gestured vaguely at him. “Do… whatever it is you wish to do.”

No sooner had she given her permission—which he _always_ waited for—than Asriel shot away, darting back into the house. Odd. He almost never ran inside, not because it wasn’t allowed but because he was just that concerned with Safety and Responsibility and Doing The Right Thing. Maybe he was finally getting a teenage rebellious streak.

Or maybe, she thought grimly, her little buttercup scheme had left him on-edge and anxious when it came to her health. That made her feel guilty. Suddenly the scattered sunlight seemed a little less bright, the flowers a little less colourful. She figured she deserved it, though, considering.

Soon, the pitter-patter of furry paws reached her ears and snapped her from her rapidly spiralling thoughts.

“Alright,” Asriel said, coming to a stop and sinking to his knees in front of her. “Show me your hand!” In one of his paws he brandished a fresh bandage.

Sighing, Chara extended a hand. The wrong one, of course, because even after years of doing it she still delighted in teasing him.

“Okay, we—” He stopped, stared at where the cut should’ve been, then pouted up at her and whined. “Chara!”

“What?” She tilted her head at him stoically. “You never said which hand.”

The pout became a glare, and after a moment she relented and offered him the injured hand.

“Okay.” He eyed the gash on her wrist with something like—disdain, or perhaps discomfort. They’d patched each other up before, though not since the buttercups. Made sense. Chara shifted uneasily. Asriel, sap that he was, mistook her guilt for fear or pain.

“Don’t worry,” he said brightly, all traces of dis-ease vanishing from his face as he beamed at her. “It’ll be gone in no time!”

She had nothing to say to that, so she just nodded dumbly.

Humming, Asriel closed his eyes and flexed his empty paw. A few green sparks flickered to life, running down his fingers to his paw pad and back up again. Slowly, lips pressed into a thin line as he concentrated, he conjured a deep green light and pressed it into her hand.

Healing magic never ceased to amaze her. That dull ache of flesh and skin knitting itself back together, the warmth, then the euphoric rush of hormones as her dumb human body adjusted to the magically accelerated healing.

“There,” Asriel said. “Feel better?”

The cut had been deeper than she’d let on, but it had more or less closed. Only the faded red of drying blood remained around a thin white line. It would fade quickly, if her past experience with healing magic was any indicator. Asriel wasn’t as powerful or as practised as his parents, but his healing magic, though less effective, always felt… better. Like she could feel him in it.

“Better,” she said lamely, trying to ignore the disgustingly sappy thought that’d just crossed her mind.

“Good,” Asriel said, sounding relieved. “Good.” Then he pulled out that bandage again and took her wrist in his hands.

“Asriel,” she stopped him. “It’s—you closed it. You don’t need to bandage it.”

He held still for a moment. “I know,” he admitted, “but…” But it’s better to be safe than sorry. But what if it opens back up again. But why take a chance. But why _not._ But I have to. But.

“Please,” he said, head downturned, eyes locked on her hand.

A pang of guilt went through her. What was he thinking of? Red-stained sheets and bright yellow flowers and long nights spent by her bedside? Reasoning with her, then pleading with her, then taking things into his own hands, all the things she’d forced on him, and—

“Okay,” she said softly. Please. “Okay.”

He nodded mutely and gently, ever so gently, wound the bandage around her wrist. It was too much material for such a small cut—and her arms were thin, besides—but that didn’t stop him. Eventually her wrist, and a good part of her forearm, was wrapped snugly.

“Is it—” He swallowed a little. “Does it feel okay?”

Chara’s eyes flickered down to meet his, her bright red meeting his soft green. There was something small and scared there, buried deep—but mostly there was just care and concern and love and _Asriel._

“Uh-huh,” she said dumbly.

He stared at her for a long moment before snorting. “Gee, Chara,” he smiled. “You sure you’re feeling okay? Normally now is when you’d push me away and call me a sap.”

That was true, but she didn’t quite feel like it today.

“Well—I—” Her cheeks reddened. “Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me it’s possible to change for the better and all that?”

“I also tell you that I don’t think you need to change that much,” he pointed out, “but sure.” A pause. “Thanks,” he said quietly, as though she’d just patched him up and not the other way around. She nodded. Didn’t feel like anything needed to be said.

Finally satisfied, Asriel hopped up and plonked himself down next to her on the wooden edge of the garden bed. They sat in silence, watching the distant city lights flicker on as evening fell. What sunlight filtered down through cracks in the mountain grew deeper and orange-y. It was a lovely sight, though she had once told Asriel that it paled in comparison to a _real_ sunset, out on the surface. He wanted to see one for himself, she knew. Had he gone through with their plan, he _would_ have, but… sitting there with him, hand-in-hand in their little world, she was glad he’d convinced her to keep on living. Perhaps one day they’d see a real sunset together.

Until then, though, she was content with the deep orange light on the flowers and the smell of freshly baked pie and his hand, soft and warm in hers.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second published work and my first ever for this community, so feedback is of course welcome. Hope you enjoyed it!


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